Black Memories
by Sweet Darkling
Summary: He looked past the hollowed cheeks and he ignored the thick black hair that could have belonged to other girls.He looked into her eyes – eyes that glittered strangely and seemingly without sanity – and he remembered the cousin he had loved.


Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. JKR does, and I'm not making any money out of this.

Author's Note: This isn't my usual style of fiction writing. Rather than a usual type of story, this story will be like a series of random one-shots, in no particular chronological order. It's a series of drabbles about the Black cousins (Bellatrix, Andromeda, Narcissa, Sirius and Regulus) in a way, but it should slowly build a picture of what their lives had been like, became like and why. In this first chapter, Bellatrix may seem a little out of character, but it's more that I want to show how she had a human side to her – which was still compatible with who she became later on, as will be illustrated in later chapters. I also wanted to semi-explain how and why Sirius ended up in Gryffindor. It is canon-compliant, but if it ever ceases to be, I'll give you guys a warning. (Incidentally, I don't consider interviews canon so I won't be going out of my way to keep the story compliant with the interviews.)

Black Memories

Sirius had thought that he hated Bellatrix through and through. He hated everything she stood for and everything she fought for but as he fell backwards, towards the veil, he looked at Bellatrix – _really_ looked at her. He looked past the hollowed cheeks that made her seem so unfamiliar and he ignored the thick black hair that could have belonged to other girls. He looked into her eyes – eyes that glittered strangely and seemingly without sanity – and he remembered the cousin he had loved.

He recalled the first memory he had of her. Sirius could have hardly been more than five – maybe he was four. He was lying in bed and he was scared of the dark. Bellatrix had sneaked into his room to wish him good night, and, recalling it now, Sirius realised that Bellatrix must have known that he was scared of the dark when she had plonked herself down on his bed. She had asked him if he wanted to hear a story but it had been more of a demand. She had always had that power – maybe it came from being the eldest of three daughters? She asked questions as if they were orders and gave the impression that she knew all. She had given off that aura to Sirius, four years old and scared of the dark. And it shocked him, but even to this moment, he could recall the story she had told him of a golden haired little princess who would marry a silver-haired prince, one who protected her from everything. It occurred to Sirius now that maybe Bellatrix had already realised that Lucius would be the one to marry Narcissa, but all those years ago, Sirius had only thought of how comforting it was to have his big, powerful cousin protecting him from the monsters in the dark, and he had fallen asleep as her vibrant voice gradually faded away.

That feeling of comfort and power grew as Sirius had grown older. He could remember when he was seven or eight and had broken a vase in his Auntie's house, chasing Regulus. He had stood trembling, waiting for the punishment, when Bellatrix, Andromeda and Narcissa had entered the room with their parents. He had stolen a glance at Bellatrix and had seen her dark eyes glittering at him; comprehendingly, it had seemed to him at the time. She had turned to her father, lifting her chin defiantly, and had said, "Sorry, father, I forgot to tell you that I broke the vase." Sirius had never known what the punishment was but, as his parents were more lenient than Bellatrix's, he couldn't imagine that it had been pleasant. He had never thanked her, it occurred to him now, as he fell backwards.

There had been a Valentine's Day – the first year that he had heard of such a thing. His three beautiful cousins had come in, and as always, Bellatrix seemed to stand out from them as if she was the sun that they orbited around. Andromeda and Narcissa were giggling, he remembered, as Bellatrix whispered something to them. Once they had stopped giggling and started discussing something else, he had gone to Bellatrix and demanded to be told what they were discussing. Bellatrix had looked amused, and her amusement grew as Sirius explained to her that as they had no brothers, it was his duty to look after them. When he remembered that moment, it seemed to Sirius that Bellatrix's amusement had not been unkind and that there may have been gratitude behind the amusement. But he had been too young to have realised anything – he was only nine or ten at the time. Bellatrix had leaned down, her captivating black hair framing her face gracefully, and had whispered secrets of Valentine's Day, of cards given in secret, telling stories of kisses exchanged and becoming boyfriend-and-girlfriend. She had giggled at Sirius' look of shock but it had been the first time Sirius had ever thought of girls in that way. It had not been long before he had begun wondering what it would be like to kiss girls and why in the world boys liked to kiss girls when they were so stupid; but when he thought of Bellatrix, her power, her magnetism and her ability to make him feel safe, he thought that he understood why boys might want to kiss a girl like Bellatrix, and he had begun to feel possessive about her.

Without fully understanding why or how, Sirius could recall delirious nights when he thought about Bellatrix and wondered what kissing her would be like. When he was in trouble with his parents, he would imagine that defiant tilt of Bellatrix's head and he would copy it and pretend that he was as brave as her. He hoped that these stories of his defiance would reach her and that she would realise how brave he was. No matter how cold the days were, when Sirius was tucked into bed in the nights, he would flush hot in the dark as he imagined Bellatrix, her amused eyes, her kindly smile and her flamboyant aura. He would imagine her expression as he kissed her – sometimes it would be surprised, sometimes it would be returned. He imagined every expression and every scenario and flushed ever redder in the nights, hoping that nobody would see him or could read his mind.

It was after one such delirious night in the summer before he started Hogwarts that had determined his fate, Sirius realised much later. The three sisters were coming to his house, and there were whispers of someone special with them. Sirius had been too young and naïve to understand what or who this someone special would be. He had only thought that maybe his courageous cousin Bellatrix would realise that he was just as courageous as her (or almost as courageous, anyway). They had arrived with their parents and a boy. Sirius had instinctively taken a dislike to the boy, who radiated arrogance similar to Bellatrix's. She had turned to Sirius immediately and smiled at him, and Sirius was never sure whether he had blushed or not. Bellatrix hadn't noticed if he had blushed, however, because she had turned to the boy and whispered something to him. He had turned to Sirius and smiled; Sirius, of course, never returned that smile. Things had continued to feel odd throughout the evening. Bellatrix was less attentive that usual, and Andromeda and Narcissa seemed to share a secret that they wouldn't share with him, throwing glances to Bellatrix from under their lashes as they shook their heads and giggled.

He and Regulus were sent to bed before the guests had left as usual, but Sirius had crept out of bed to find Bellatrix – to impress her with his act of defiance and bravery. He had crept along the corridor and heard whispers from one of the shadowy corners. He had spotted Bellatrix there, with the boy, whispering inaudibly to him. He had nodded, smiling understandingly, and he had pushed his lips against Bellatrix's forcefully as the bile had risen in Sirius. Sirius had turned around and run back into his room, balling his hands into fists under the duvet and forced the bile down. Bellatrix had crept into his room a few minutes later, sitting in the familiar spot on his bed and smiling down at him with the now defiled mouth. Sirius had hated her in that moment – hated her enough to want to scratch her face until blood dripped down, hitting her until her bravery disappeared! But he had just stared back at her, unable to show or act on any of this hatred. She had bitten one nail nervously, looking at him from under her lashes – the only moment of nervousness that Sirius could remember seeing in her. She had said – with tenderness that Sirius had never known her to have – that she hoped he would like Rodolphus and that he would grow to be as close to him as he was to Regulus and to her and her sisters. She had paused, waiting for an answer of some kind, and her brows had knitted together in confusion at the silence. She had looked at him searchingly, confused, and she still didn't seem to understand. That was the first time Sirius had realised she wasn't all-knowing, and he felt all the more betrayed and he had hated her even more. He had finally whispered that he hoped she would never be happy with _him_ and that he hoped their marriage would be cursed. She had looked hurt and lost and it made him feel so much better that he had decided, in that moment, that he would do everything to further hurt her. She had tried to recapture their previous relationship but although Sirius was never vocally aggressive, he continued to hurt her passively and distance himself from her, and a few months later, when the Sorting Hat was sitting on his head, he had mentally chanted, "Not Slytherin; not Slytherin", imagining how hurt Bellatrix would look. He had gone to sit at the Gryffindor table, managing to note the look of shock on Bellatrix's face without blatantly looking at her.

He had continued to do anything and everything that could hurt Bellatrix – particularly picking on Severus Snape as a sign of his distaste for the Slytherin house. He never knew how hurt Bellatrix had been – or how hurt she had _not _been. The contact between them was small because of the different houses they were in, but sometimes, just sometimes, Sirius wished that he could hear one of the stories Bellatrix used to tell him dreamily, as she sat on his bed and destroyed monsters with her words. Bellatrix had left the school at the end of his first year and married Rodolphus Lestrange shortly afterwards, and the marriage had only made Sirius hate everything to do with her all the more. Eventually, Bellatrix had returned the hatred, and seemingly with interest.

It was only now, as Sirius was falling backwards and probably to his death, that he realised he didn't hate Bellatrix at all. His pre-pubescent crush might have disappeared but the love of his powerful but kind cousin had never disappeared. It had only been stifled. He wondered if she had ceased to love him, and he hoped that, somewhere deep inside, beyond the insanity in her glittering eyes, she remembered the little scared cousin she had tucked into bed and told stories to. It was too late to tell her anything through words, but he hoped that his eyes, as she looked at him, told her everything he remembered and loved about her.

Author's Note: I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I would seriously love any reviews people would like to leave me, especially if they are constructive criticism. I'd rather do without flames, as they aren't that constructive really! But please feel free to point out typos, grammatical errors (there's one bit in this chapter that I am completely uncertain about) and anything else that you think counts as constructive criticism. Thanks for reading it everyone!


End file.
